FF VIII - Force Your Way
by NormandyAlive
Summary: The world teeters on the brink of destruction - old enemies once again ready for war, as Squall - a member of an elite mercenary force - is chosen by fate to be the savior of humanity. Squall must face his arch-rival, a powerful sorceress and his own inner demons as he flirts with love, loss and redemption in this breathtaking, coming-of-age story.
1. Chapter 1

The train came to an abrupt stop. Rinoa, her morning nap interrupted, emerged from her cabin. Not sure if she was awake or still dreaming, instinctively she was drawn outside, into the golden, silky rays of sunlight that embraced her petite frame. A beautiful, undulating landscape dotted with wildflowers in hundreds of hues stretched out into the horizon. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the sunlight as she lowered herself down from the train carriage and strolled delicately into the fertile pasture. Focusing on a solitary tree in the distance, a strong gust of wind kicked up, sending a flurry of petals dancing and swaying on the early morning breeze. As the great torrent of petals embraced Rinoa she raised her left hand and snatched what she thought was a pink petal from mid-air, but upon opening her hand she found that she had actually captured a golden feather. Gazing intently at the feather her mind raced and heart skipped a few beats – she felt dread, a sense of impending doom, the same feeling that she had been battling with for the last three days. Although she would not inform her friends of this. It was not her part to be seen to fret or worry, she had become more than a single person now, she was the face of an entire movement - people depended on her. Her sacrifice was her carefree youth, her reward: though distant and often times seemingly unobtainable, was nationhood and self-determination for the people of Timber. Almost taking on a life of its own, the feather rose up and spiraled upwards into the sky at great speed as Rinoa turned and gently brushed a few strands of ebony hair away from her eyes. Sleep was her only respite from her fears.

Far away, on a barren ridge hedged by boulders and craggy cliffs, two warriors fought an epic battle. Not a battle between good and evil - as neither of the two warriors could claim to be a paragon of honour or virtue. Neither of the warriors were evil either. Though Seifer - the older of the two warriors – had a mean streak and a fiery temper. He was egotistical and somewhat heartless as well as self-centred, but he was not evil. Although his instructors had long feared that there was evil inside of him, deep down, untouched, like a pile of kindling waiting for an ember to start a fire that would engulf his mind and soul. Squall, the younger warrior, despite possessing a hard outer-shell, and having a reputation for being cold and detached, had a lukewarm heart that was waiting to be awoken. He had been a loving child, but life had taught him to be hard, to be strong, to show no fear and expect no help. But it was an epic battle none-the-less, as is any battle where two young men, full of hopes an aspirations pit might against might knowing that one shall be victor, and the other disgraced. Their blades clashed with a great grinding of steel on steel, sparks flickered through the air and fizzled out. What had started as a simple sparring practice had soon turned violent. His grey trench-coat twiting and twirling, Seifer thrust his blade down upon Squall with all of his strength, though Squal easy parried the clumsy strike. Countering with a slash of his own, his flowing brown bangs fell over his eyes, Squall stumbled as Seifer skilfully dodged the blade and took a large step to the left. Raising his gloved right hand Seifer slicked back his short, blond hair, smiled and gestured for Squall to come at him with all of his force. Squall took the bait, charging forward, sword slicing through air. Their swords met again, the squeal of grinding steel on steel as the two warriors slid slowly towards each other, coming eye-to-eye, looking into deep each other's souls. Parting, Seifer lunged, jabbing the tip of his sword towards Squall's face three times, only slightly missing. With a swift parry from Squall, Seifer took his chance and sliced at Squall's neck, though Squall dodged and stumbled backwards, Seifer mirrored his rival's movements. Angered, Squall tightened his grip on his sword and charged at his sparring partner, longing to spill blood. But Seifer raised his hand, Squall watched as a small ball of fire grew in the palm of his hand and burst forward. He had used magic, Squall thought to himself as the searing heat threw him backwards, down flat onto his back; he had broken the rules and used magic. Raising himself onto his knees, Seifer soaring over him, Squall's eyes fixed on the shimmering blade as it fell from the sky and bit deep into his flesh, a cold, icy kiss. His head spinning, blood oozing from a gash running between his eyes, Squall rose up, driving his sword into Seifer, who parried his blow once more. Stumbling back, his vision blurring, Squall saw a great flurry of black feathers swarm around him, in the swelling inky-blackness he saw a great hall, fireworks, masses of people celebrating, death, destruction, warfare, but most importantly he saw a young woman. She was pale, with ebony hair contrasting her ivory white skin, her face was rounded and her eyes, watery and large, were fixed on him. She looked at him, deep into his eyes – and then he remembered, he remembered a time long ago, when another girl had looked at him, with that same, loving expression. His head spinning, Squall was overtaken by the swelling darkness.

Seifer knelt by his fallen rival and felt his pulse - Squall was still alive. He was impressed, Squall's swordsmanship was improving at an astonishing rate. Seifer feared that his rival may have even surpassed him, he thought that if he had not been reduced to casting a fire spell the outcome of the battle might have been very different - he might have lost to Squall, and the thought sickened him. He lifted his enemy onto his shoulder as he began his long descent from the Gaulg Mountains into the rolling Alcaud plains and towards Balmb Garden. There would be other battles, but not today. As Seifer entered Balamb Garden a crowd of onlookers gathered, pointing and whispering amongst themselves, from the center of the crowd Fujin appeared. A fellow member of the disciplinary committee, Fujin was 17-years-old, short, slim, with neck length silver hair that shimmered by sun or moon. In a momentary lapse of judgement, Fujin raised her signature eye-patch as she closed in for a better look at Seifer's burden.

"DEAD!?" She exclaimed taking a step back and stamping her left foot.

"No. Not dead," Seifer answered as he took an uneasy step forward. "Now gimme a hand, will ya?" As he plodded along on his way to the infirmary, Fujin ploughing ahead intimidating the swelling crowd of onlookers into standing back, Seifer's legs cramped and shivered. His clothes were dirtied and body bloodied and his sword was blunted, but that mattered little, he had won. A victory was a victory. Seifer dropped Squall onto the first empty bed he could see. "Next time," Seifer whispered as he turned to leave, "I'll get you next time... Without magic".

Squall awoke an hour later, the rustling of a curtain his anchor to the waking world, the gentle noise and cool breeze from the open window bringing him to his senses. Leaning forward Squall recognized his surroundings and knew exactly where he was - the infirmary.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Kadowaki questioned. She was a large, broad-shouldered woman. Though large in size, and somewhat intimidating, she was a kindly woman who had devoted her life to the students of Balamb Garden, and headmaster Cid.

"...Ok". Squall answered, coldly, as he sat forward slightly and rubbed his brow. Dr. Kadowaki dug her fists into her waist and scowled. She tried to look into his eyes, but Squall turned his head.

"Take it easy next time, you hear?" She shouted as she held out her right hand and pointed her index finger into Squall's face. "Looks like your eyes are focusing. You should be fine. Say your name for me?"

"Squall." he answered sarcastically.

"Why don't you take it easy in training?" Dr. Kadowaki questioned, leaning over and pointing into Squall's face once more, "Next time you might not be so lucky."

"Tell that to Seifer." Squall answered. The throbbing in his head returned, he forced the palm of his left hand to his forehead in an attempt to ease the pulsating ache.

"That Seifer..." Dr. Kadowaki said, a worried expression on her face as she cupped her chin, "Won't listen to anyone. Why don't you just run away?"

"I can't just run away," Squall said, gritting his teeth as he forced the palms of his hands down onto the surface of the bed.

"You want to be cool, huh?" Dr. Kadowaki shouted, throwing her hands into the air and sighing, "Well, don't get hurt in the process! Let's see, your instructor is..." Her brow furrowed as she cupped her chin once more, "Quistis," She exclaimed after several seconds of deep thought, "I'll call her now, just wait here a minute." Dr. Kadowaki disappeared back into the office as Squall rested his head on the pillow. "Quistis?" Dr. Kadowaki's voice drifted in from the main office. "Come get your student. Yes, yes... His injury's not serious. It'll probably leave a scar. Right, please come by." His head pounded, the muscles in his arms and legs ached, but the most damage, at least in his own mind, had been done to his ego. The other students and their opinions did not matter to Squall, he couldn't care about them, their thoughts, or the rumours that they would be spreading. His main concern was the shame that he felt for having been outwitted and defeated by Seifer. He replayed the fight in his head over-and-over again, thinking of what he might have done differently, what techniques he might have used. He didn't know how long she had been standing there, half bent over, staring at him, the woman in the blue shirt, white dress and green shawl. But their eyes locked, she looked at him, smiling, and his heart felt like it had been caught in a vice-grip. He felt a connection, a longing, but not in a sexual sense, no, something on a much, much deeper level, something he could not understand, some primal, base feeling from childhood it was like he had known her all his life.

"Squall. So we meet again," she whispered, he strained to hear her words through the glass partition that she was situated behind. And, as suddenly as she had appeared she was gone. The infirmary door opened, Quistis entered. She strode across the floor gracefully, tall and straight, her well-polished knee-high boots making their distinctive click on the floor, warning Squall that she was on her way. Dr. Kadowaki nodded to the first bed, and Quistis rounded the corner. Seeing Squall she sighed and shook her head, her long, sandy-brown hair bounced off of her petite, pointed shoulders. She was glad that it was Squall.

"I knew it would be either you or Seifer," She said as she approached the bed and leaned over, she gently removed Squall's hand from his forehead and examined his bandages, before looking him in the eye, then examined his bandages once more before straightening up and folding her arms. She tried to remain cool, to seem in control and somewhat detached, but she was trembling slightly as she gazed upon him. His scar - or what little she could see of it protruding from beneath the bandage - only made him look more handsome in her eyes. He was trying to be strong, to be confident, but she knew that he was hurting, not that he would tell her. She'd love for him to open up to her, to let her in, but she knew that would never happen. "Come on, let's go. Today's the field exam," She said as she rounded the corner into the main office.


	2. Chapter 2

A wise man once said that there is nothing better for self-improvement, advancement or one's own ego than being humbled; whether that humbling comes in the form of being outsmarted, out-witted, or simply beaten physically. Squall didn't agree with this belief, and as he stepped from the doors of the infirmary and made his way along the promenade to the central core of Balamb Garden, he felt angry and depressed. Reality had finally sunk in, he was a failure – he had been beaten by a cheater, but he was still beaten. He should have expected cheating and dishonesty. He was training to be an elite mercenary, to go forth and fight wars and resolve conflicts, he would be naive to believe that every enemy that he'd encounter would possess some degree of chivalry. No, war is not honourable. When two warriors meet one must live and one must die, the manner in which your enemy dies is irrelevant - dead men tell no tales, living men do; living men can twist the tale to suit themselves or their own view of themselves.

Raising his right hand to his forehead, half in an attempt to sooth his throbbing brow, and half in an attempt to shield his eyes from the sun Squall imagined that the great multitude of students basking in the sun along the manicured lawns of garden's west face were all watching him. He could imagine them all forming into a circle, their eyes set on him as they accused him of being a second-rate warrior, a loser – his heart skipped a beat. In reality only one set of eyes were fixed on Squall - those of Quistis Trepe, who was waiting for him a few feet ahead on the promenade.

"Squall, is there something on our mind?" Quistis questioned, honestly worried as she stepped forward for a better look at her student. His fists were clenched, his eyes full of fire and hatred, and he was mumbling slightly. Squall walked past her and she skipped forward trying to match his speed. As he was just about to open his mouth to speak she interrupted him. "Let me guess," She said as she stopped and crossed her arms, "Not Really!" She continued, mimicking his deep voice. Squall grunted and started walking with a brisker pace, unclenching his fists. Quistis cocked her head back and laughed. Squall's blood boiled. Turning quickly he locked his eyes on his instructor.

"What's so funny!" He demanded, swinging his right arm through the air. He was intimidating, but Quistis was not afraid, she found his theatrics cute.

"Oh, nothing's funny," She answered briskly. "I'm just happy, honestly. I think I'm finally starting to understand my student a little, that's all."

"I'm more complex than you think," Squall answered in a sarcastic tone as he placed his right hand on his hip.

"Then tell me more about yourself," Quistis demanded as she stepped forward, "Tell me more about you. Help me a little, just dangle one string from the twine-ball so that I might start to unravel it myself."

Squall turned to walk away, "It's none of your..." but before he could say the last word Quistis shouted out a single word - "BUSINESS." As Squall walked on Quistis disappeared into a throng of students, but he could hear her laughing to herself, and he could picture the smug look on her face. He didn't need her, he thought as he rounded the main staircase and called the elevator, he didn't need anyone to mock him, to criticize him, or belittle him. And he certainly didn't need anyone to feign interest, to try to wiggle themselves close to him - because they all leave, all of them, sooner or later. The time spent socializing and cavorting was far better spent conditioning his mind and honing his skills anyway.

Rinoa was shaken awake by the conductor. "Balamb Station, miss," the short, rotund conductor said as he steadied his hat on his head. Rinoa thanked him and rose from her seat. Most of her life now seemed to be spent on a train. The only difference now was that this was not her train. This was a commuter train, not the comfortable, homely train that operated as HQ for the Forrest Owls. Only awake a few seconds the reality of life hit her hard, her mind was once again drawn to the fact that the Owls had suffered another setback. A young boy - not a member of the organization - but a trusted courier, who ferried notes and documents, had been seized by soldiers of the Galbadian occupation army. The poor boy was now festering in the Desert Prison. How ironic, Rinoa thought to herself, her father had been a top-ranking general and had sent countless men - young and old - off to terrible fates – now she was, in many senses, doing the same thing. Maybe it was something in the Caraway blood, maybe not. Making her way to the hotel she relished the cool, sea breeze as her mind drifted back to happier days spent on the pier, gazing out over the turquoise sea. There was still a good few hours before she was to meet with Headmaster Cid, but feeling that she should at the very least check in first she quickly removed her ivory halter dress from her bag and hung it up on the balcony to freshen and un-wrinkle in the open air as she departed the small town. Making her way across the Alcaud plains she recalled fond memories of strolling by the coast with her beloved Seifer, as they talked about their hopes, their fears, their dreams for the future. Childhood ends too soon. So often in youth we can be fooled into thinking that our carefree days will last forever, that life is but a game, but Rinoa was quickly realizing that life was no joke. There was no rewind button, yet how she longed for one.

Squall entered the classroom, all eyes set on him as he shuffled towards his desk at the far-end of the room. Miranda and Brianna – two of the nosiest girls at Balamb started whispering among themselves as a male student, Jett, leaned forward, trying to get a better view of Squall's wound. Squall locked eyes with Jett and scowled, causing Jett to recoil. Seifer raised his right hand and imitated the shape of a gun, "Pow" he whispered as he began laughing, Squall ignored him and took his seat. Quistis entered, the room fell silent. She mounted her red leather chair at the head of the classroom as she tightened her fist, raised it to her mouth and coughed - a very delicate, feminine gesture.

"Good morning, class. Let's start with today's schedule," Quistis said as she ruffled some papers on her desk, "Now, I know that there have been some runours floating around about the field exam for SeeD candidates. I have authority to inform you that the rumours are true. The exams will be taking place this evening," A large gasp rose from the front row. "The field exam is only open to those who passed last week's written exam. Those who failed the exam, or who are not participating for personal reasons are to remain behind in the study taking part in the exam have free time until 1600 hours this evening, where you will meet me in the main hall and I will announce the team assignments" Quistis contiuned as she rose from her desk and crossed her arms."Oh, and Seifer, do NOT to injure your partner during training!"

Seifer pulled the black leather glove off of his right hand and raised his hand into the air, exposing a small blister. "Oh, but poor me, I was injured, too. Have you no concern for me, dear instructor?" Seifer said in a mocking tone. He lowered his hand and smirked.

Two girls at the front of the class giggled, one of them blushing slightly. Quistis grinned, "Class dismissed," she said. Seifer sprung from his seat and made for the door, knocking Jett and back into his seat. Seifer had plans, and nobody would get in his way. Squall was the last to rise from his seat, making his way to the front of the classroom he saw that Quistis' eyes were set on him once again. "You haven't been to the Fire Cavern yet, have you, Squall?" she questioned as she stepped infront of the door, blocking the exit. Squall didn't answer, he simply shrugged his head. He had planned on going but his morning had not gone as expected, to say the least. "You won't be able to take part in today's SeeD exam if you don't pass this prerequisite. Do you have a good excuse?" He did have a pretty good excuse – he had spent the better part of the morning fighting for his life, and when he had been not fighting he had been laying in a semi-conscious state in the infirmary. Bu he didn't believe in using excuse. Excuses were for weak men, for cowards and from losers – and he was neither. So, he simply shook his head again. Quistis smiled slightly, she had a chance for the second time today to get closer to Squall, though this time she would be alone with him. She saw her opening, and she decided to take it. "Fine," she said, cupping her chin with her right hand and blushing slightly, "I'll go with you. Now let's get going, I'll be down at the front gate, don't keep me waiting." Before Squall could say another word Quistis had disappeared through the door, leaving him alone.

Seifer was waiting at the main gate for Rinoa. As she mounted the plinth and turned for the main stairs he strolled towards her. She closed in for a hug, but he stepped back and she clumsily stumbled forward, feeling rather foolish.

"It's been a while," Rinoa said, blushing.

"Wow, you don't look well," Seifer said as he crossed his arms across his chest, "Yeah, you look sick," he continued. Rinoa tried to hold back a tear. "Now let's get going," Seifer said as he turned on his heels and started strolling towards the main hub of Balamb Garden, "I have work to do. Some of the students have been bold boys and girls." At the same moment that Rinoa was plodding along, trying to keep up with Seifer, Squall passed by on his way to meet with Quistis. Catching a fleeting glimpse of Rinoa he stopped dead in his tracks. Her pale, ivory skin, her large, watery eyes and flowing ebony hair with caramel streaks seemed so familiar to him. That was the second time today that he had seen her, he knew it. And then it hit him, his blood ran cold for a second as he remembered the swelling mass of black feathers that had swallowed him earlier during his fight with Seifer. It had been her face that appeared in that inky blackness. He knew it. He pressed onwards toward Quistis as his mind raced. Whatever was happening was far beyond his understanding – his mission now was to report to the Fire Cavern, and that was the only thing that mattered to him.

Approaching the elevator Seifer gestured for Rinoa to enter first. "You need a special key to get to the headmaster's office, luckily for you they trust me enough to give me the key," Seifer said as he grinned.

"Wow," Rinoa said, honestly surprised, "They trust you that much!? What does the key look like?"

"Oh, It's black, dirty and a size nine," Seifer said, holding back a chuckle.

"I don't follow you," Rinoa said, cocking her head to the left and smiling. Seifer drew back and kicked the control panel of the elevator with all of his force. The elevator took off. "Oh... I understand now," Rinoa sighed.

The note on Cid's door read: Gone Fishin'.

"Hard luck, Seifer said as he made for the elevator, seems you'll have to wait for the party to meet the old man."

"Seifer?" Rinoa shouted, as Seifer entered the elevator, "Have you achieved your dream yet... Your romantic dream?" The elevator door clicked closed, obscuring his words. Rinoa was heartbroken. Her brave knight had changed, been replaced by a cold, self-centered sadist. All of her memories of tender walks by the bay, and nights spent by the pier at Balamb were all the more dear to her now, as she knew those events would never be repeated.


	3. Chapter 3

_Quistis' pen traced back and forth over the surface of her notepad as she sighed. How often can fate and future be altered by the scribblings that we make on paper? Not too often, But Quistis was full aware of what lay ahead - this was no ordinary situation. This was not a simple homework assignement - lives lay in the balance. For several hours now several crack detachments of Galbadian soldiers had been pounding the Dukedom of Dollet. An unprovoked attack, with no sense or reason behind it. As she sat in the peaceful confines of Balamb Garden, what little remained of the army of Dollet was being pushed back into the rolling mountains, or annihilated in the vast flatland that surrounded the prosperous port town. Though she had made several__alterations to her current slip of paper, one thing remained the same – Squall's name circled and positioned in the margin at the top of the page. Beneath Squall the names of several SeeD candidates had been scribbled – though all of these names had been removed and placed onto other lists. She thought back to earlier that morning, recalling how Squall had skillfully dispatched Ifrit in single combat – his strikes were smooth and calculated, his footwork fluid and graceful, Squall had truly entered into a new class – a class of his own. Checking her watch Quistis sighed, only two names remained – two trouble cases. First: Zell, loud and bashful - Zell was a skilled fighter who relied solely on his fists. Second: Seifer, stubborn and obnoxious, not likely to fit in or follow orders in any team that he was situated in, Seifer had, in fact, failed several SeeD field exams for just those reasons. There was no time left, though, and with a stroke of her pen Squall, Zell and Seifer became team mates; for better of for worse. Seifer would be team captain, for no other reason than the simple fact that he would not be happy in a lesser position – but the title would be in name only. Squall, reasoned and measured, would be the real captain of the team and would surely assume control as soon as the mission started. Zell would follow Squall's order – Zell and Squall did not know each other – but Quistis knew that Zell both knew and disliked Seifer, making Zell more likely to follow and obey Squall, meaning their objective would, more-than-likely, be achieved. There were a lot of ifs and buts in her reasoning and planning, and much hinged on it: the lives of hundreds of innocent civilians in Dollet, the future of the dukedom – but, most importantly to Quistis, in a selfish, self-centred way, she was mainly concerned with keeping her instructor status. No sooner had she lowered her pen but Headmaster Cid arrived, hands clasped behind his back and chest pushed out he stopped a few feet ahead of Quistis, holding out his right hand she handed him the team lists with no words uttered. He straightened his glasses as he scanned the pages, slowly. Coming to the final page his eyes widened as they drifted from the page and connected with Quistis' eyes. "The final selection on this page is problematic," He said. He was a nice man, with a soft tone, he was short and rotund, and somewhat clumsy. But looks aside he was a shrude operator, a skilled orator and one of very few men in existance who can achieve any goal that they set for themselves. "I think it will work," Quistis said, breaking eye contact. She had found herself in trouble in recent days, both Cid and other instructors had expressed unertainty in her skills, and she could see where they were coming from. Though rising through the ranks at an astonishingly fast rate, and becoming the youngest instructor in Garden history, her on-paper grades had failed carry-over_ _to__real-life field excercises and operations. She had suffered many sleepless nights, fearing a call from Cid that would see her bumped down to SeeD again. Not that she didn't deserve bumping down, she knew that she was in over her head, knew that she was too young for the station and pressure, but, being a fighter, she was not going to give in – not without one last fight. "I will trust your judgement," Cid said as he handed the sheets back to Quistis with a warm smile, "It's time, take your position and I will be over promptly." _

_Squall appeared first, on time as usual. "Over here," Quistis shouted as she flopped her notepad in the air. Squall rolled his eyes and shuffled forward. Seeing Squall had eased her mind a little, even if he was as grumpy as usual. "Let's see," Quistis said, flipping through her sheets – pretending that she was unaware of the team assignments, "Ah yes. You're going to be teamed with Zell Dincht, quite a lively character." _

_"__Zell Dincht!" Squall roared as he clenched his fists, "He's not lively, he's just loud! Can I switch members?" _

_"__I'm afraid not, Squall. All decisions are final. Oh, look," Quistis said as she pointed over Squall's left shoulder, "Here's Zell now!" Appearing from the doorway of the cafeteria, his short, platinum blonde hair slicked back at the sides and pointd into thin spikes in the front, Zell kicked and punch at thin air. Taking into a sprint he launched himself into the air and pulled off three impressive somersaults. Coming to a stop he gave Squall and Quistis a thumbs up. He smiled, the tribal tattoo that adorned his face repulsed Squall. _

_"__Woah! I'm with you!?" Zell exclaimed, sounding honestly impressed. Wiping some hotdog grease from his right hand on his pant leg he offered to shake hands with Squall, though Squall coldly refused. "Sooo... You hate Seifer too, eh?" Zell questioned, retracting his hand. Squall crossed his hands. "Yeah," Zell continued, "I heard he whipped your ass pretty bad this morning." Squall clenched his fists and retracted his upper lip a little bit. Zell, realizing that he had over spoken closed his mouth and took a step backwards. "That Seifier, whom you hate just so much,__happens to be your team leader I'm afraid," Qustis said, clasping her notepad tight into her chest, So, you guys are just going to have to get used to him." _

_Both Squall and Zell recoiled in horror, but before they could protest, sallow-skinned Raijin appeared, followed closely by Fuijin with Seifer, both hands on his hips, following in the rear. "Good evening, instructor," Seifer said, mockingly, "Ever get a sense of de ja vous?" Quistis grinned, _

_"__You're acting squad leader, Seifer." She said. Raijin began clapping._

_"__Well, well – so it's not de ja vous after all. It's about time that you got__some sense and decided to give me a worthwhile position, instructor." Seifer said as he turned to the rest of the disciplinary committee. _

_"__...Good luck, Seifer," Quistis added, rolling her eyes. _

_"__I hate it when people wish me luck, instructor. Save those words for a bad student who needs them." Seifer said as the disciplinary comittee began lauhging and howling like beying hyenas. _

_"__Oh, okay, then... Good luck, Seifer!" Quistis mocked, as Zell started__to snigger under his breath. Though his jeering was cut short, as Headmaster Cid appeared on the stairs. _

_"__Everyone here?" Headmaster Cid questioned as he strolled over to the group and placed both hands behind his back. "Good evening. You will be Squad B, Instructor Trepe will be in charge of your section, with Seifer as acting squad leader on the ground. This exam will involve twelve__members from squads A through D. You will be proceeding to an actual__battlefield. Obviously, this is a real battle and the stakes are high. Life and death, victory and defeat, honor and disgrace, go hand-in-hand." Cid stopped to scan his audience. "How about it?" He continued, "Are you all still up for the challenge?" Zell came to attention, flashing the Seed salute, "Yes, sir!" he yelled. Seifer rolled his eyes and crossed his hands.__ "__You will be accompanied by nine qualified SeeD members. Should you fail, they will accomplish the mission – they always do. The pride of Balamb Garden rests in your hands, go forth and show the world what your made of, and prove to us that you have what it takes to become SeeDs." Cid said as he shuffled away. _


End file.
